Professionalism
by Nevermore
Summary: Dylan has noticed something unexpected in Rommie's behavior around him, and now has some thinking to do.


Andromeda is copyright of Tribune Entertainment. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.

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Author's Foreword: For anyone that read this story before, and already saw the ending, there is nothing really new that's been added in. I've simply gone back for one last edit to make sure it's all cleaned up, and even more importantly, to add an Author's Note at the end to respond to some of the comments I've gotten in reviews. I know that'll likely get this moved to the top of the list, and that's unfortunate (and not my intention). So, if you've already read the ending, rest assured that there's nothing new enough to justify another read-though. (I simply feel that some readers' comments deserved the attention that my author's note will give.)

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Professionalism

by

Nevermore

"So there are no more problems with the slipstream drive?" Dylan asked, not taking his eyes away from the mirror.

"Everything checks out perfectly," he heard Rommie's voice say from the hologram projector just a few feet away. "All of my systems are about as close to 100% as they'll ever be without trained Commonwealth engineers doing the work. Harper has a real gift."

"Great, I'll remember to mention your compliment," the captain said with a smile, running his hand through his hair as he turned to face the holographic image of his ship's artificial intelligence. "Then I guess we can get underway anytime. For now, though, why don't we shut everything down and play dead. Monitor the passive sensors, will you? I think we'll take a couple of days to let the crew rest. They've earned it."

"Yes, sir."

"Great, then I'm going to get some much needed sleep," Dylan grumbled as he sat down on the edge of his bed. The hologram winked out as Andromeda diverted her attention to the tasks that she had been assigned. _I don't believe it,_ Dylan thought to himself. _I really wasn't imagining it._

For weeks, Captain Dylan Hunt, the last of the Commonwealth High Guard and commanding officer of perhaps the most powerful ship in the galaxy, had been wrestling with a problem. He had doubted his suspicions at first, and then simply ignored it when it became more difficult to simply doubt. Now, however, he was beginning to realize he would have to face a truly difficult issue. There was no longer any question – his ship had a crush on him. The way she looked at him, the way the tone of her voice changed when she spoke to him... it was subtle, but unmistakable.

Dylan shook his head in frustration, trying to figure out what had happened to cause the difficulty. It did not take long for him to settle on at least one possibility. _It has to be Alistair Marley_, the captain decided. _He has to have had something to do with this._ Dr. Marley had been one of the best and brightest cyberneticists at the time the Commonwealth had fallen, and had developed the so-called Marley Upgrades. These modifications to the Commonwealth's starship AI systems had heightened the emotional subroutines that had already been in place. The undertaking had been done by the High Command with some reluctance, but the point had been made that creativity is a byproduct of inspiration, which is itself a byproduct of emotion. For the ships to be better, for them to adapt to new situations and possess the ability to add creative suggestions in a crisis, emotions had been developed as fully as possible. Tinkering with the subsystems had resulted in something unexpected – passions. Many of the ships developed egos, but this was tolerated because they also came to have an appreciation of their own mortality. The High Command had been more than pleased to finally have ships that could think, react, and feel, just as their best officers could. Starship efficiency had risen to undreamt-of levels. 

_Passion,_ Dylan thought angrily. _It has no place on a warship. Especially not my warship._ He had been one of the few officers that had vocally opposed the Marley Upgrades. He had never been able to get past the possibility that an overly egotistical ship might be reluctant to follow its commander's orders if it meant running from a fight the ship felt it could win. Even worse, a ship that had taken a beating or two might get scared, and balk when ordered into a dangerous situation. Even is his wildest dreams, though, Dylan had never expected that a ship could truly fall in love. There were some reports of ships that had developed a great affinity for their commanders, and there was even the matter of the _Bushido_, which had officially protested when her captain had been reassigned. Never did anyone say that a ship had fallen in love, though. _Figures I would have this come up three hundred years after the death of the only people that understand the ship's systems enough to deal with the problem._

That is exactly how Dylan confronted Andromeda's crush – it was a problem. He was a professional soldier, and had always felt that Andromeda was, as well. Forming any type of emotional bond with each other could create a distraction, and there was no place for that in a situation where the ship was undermanned to the point of severe vulnerability.

_Still, though, there is definitely something about her,_ Dylan admitted to himself. Andromeda was strong, confident, and compassionate. She was everything he would look for in a woman, and that android body of hers... He caught himself before he went too far down that road. _Yes, Harper certainly has a gift,_ he admitted with a thin smile, agreeing with Andromeda's sentiment. _If only she were a real woman..._ Once again he cut the thought short, but not before a new thought occurred to him. _Is it because she's not real?_ he asked himself. _Would I even be having these problems with her infatuation if she were real flesh and blood?_

Immediately he found the answer – if she were human, he would still have doubts. They were still fellow professionals, and there was therefore no place for romantic entanglements. _And there's still my wife,_ he realized. It would take a long time to process the loss of his family. In Dylan's mind, he had just seen his wife while studying a black hole, and that chance meeting came only a short time after he had left her for a short mission. It was no different than any one of a number of partings the two had experienced. It was the result of him being a career officer. To the rest of the galaxy, though, she had been dead for three centuries. He could hardly wrap his mind around the concept, no less begin to accept his loss. It would take a long time to heal those wounds.

_And then what?_ a voice asked from the back of his mind. _What if Rommie is still interested?_ "Damnit!" he muttered aloud as he sat up, trying to find some peace. All he really wanted to do was sleep. This was not something he had expected to deal with so soon.

_I was a single man for many, many years,_ he reminded himself. _I was married to my job for a long time. There's no shame in returning to that way of life._ He covered his eyes with his hands and reclined once more. _You won't be happy alone,_ the voice whispered from his mind. "I don't believe this," he muttered. "Maybe Rommie and I are even more alike than I thought. Now I'm starting to talk to myself, just like she always does." The comparison made him smile, despite his rising tension. He stood up and started pacing. He had always thought better while on his feet, and as soon as he got his blood pumping again, his head started to clear.

_I can't get into this right now,_ he decided. _I have a job to do. My duty comes first. Millions, even billions, of lives depend on my success. I can't be distracted. I'll give it time. She's probably just having trouble adapting to the fact that she has that android body. If she's still like this after awhile, I'll talk with her,_ Dylan decided, hoping that would be enough to quiet the voice in his head. He knew he did not really ever want to be alone, but he also had a job to do. Everything else would have to wait. He would not abandon the strict code of professionalism that the High Guard had instilled within him. At least not yet.

Fin

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Author's Note: Well, first of all, I hoped you liked it (and that you'll give a good review). I also have to address an issue that has come up in some of the reviews – the lack of finality. This is only a short scene, and was never meant to be the springboard for a story. Hence, this is all there is. My interpretation of Dylan Hunt is that he is too professional to allow personal feelings to work their way into his professional life (hence the title of this fic). If you _really_ want to see a sequel, then I suggest you read my story 'Gone to Meet Charon.' It's as close to a sequel as I'll get with this story. Sorry if that disappoints, but I just don't feel the need to say any more about this topic. At least not for now...


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